I've been working (not very fast) for the past thirty years:
Building terraces out of stone;
Retaining walls and garden beds...
Some might think I have rocks in my head!
Plans are grand: Rome wasn't built in a day.
The third trench: It's like my own little Israel-
What can I say.
Battling weeds: both in and outside;
My patch is surrounded on all sides!
I don't use chemicals: might harm the dogs;
I refuse to at any rate: the battle is on...
Pulled all the Bindi on the eastern front:
Rounding up the stragglers: easier if not drunk.
That part is lawn: where the dogs do their do;
I just pull weeds: call in the other crew.
The third trench should be a paradise: a fertile eco system;
Outside the walls: is where I get resistant;
Too many species for me to count: (if I used my toes I might work it out).
My strategy is to sow the land:
Edibles only;
Well that's the plan...
Dealing with the weed's: out by the roots- sift out the seeds...
Sow in heirlooms: watch them breed...
Maybe it's not paradise but garden without weeds is certainly nice.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 18th, 2024 23:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments3
Thanks - I really got stuck in there, and no bad back or calloused hands. I'm with you all the way (from here!)
Good to hear from you Dave. I am told there is some good beer in Marrickville (excuse my spelling).
What a metaphor here. Well set up and worked out it portrays the present day situation very well. Even the point of view is metaphorical and the narrator breaks the forth wall talking to the reader. Lovely
It is about the garden though.
Excellent
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